Garden for the Blind

   

Early this afternoon I drove to Cobb Park in Abilene, Texas. I good park; something for everyone: Skaters, senior center, playgrounds, multiple tennis courts, and the list could continue. I saw children playing, family’s picnicking, tennis players engaged in doubles, and still there was a sense of solitude. I discovered places to sit & chill out. I could see the people, but all was quiet, relatively speaking. J 

   

Point being: when I walk through a park or reconnoiter a creek or search for a different vantage point for a photo, I feel like the noise decreases and all I hear is my immediate subject.  

  

As soon as I parked the Pontiac, I checked out the Garden for the Blind. I noted the various living herbs with identification placards, then, of course, suddenly it dawned on me why they named this herb garden, the “Garden for the Blind.” All of the herb identification placards were etched in Braille. You know how some say that a blind person’s other senses are amplified. So, I closed my eyes and tried to smell as the blind smell as they amble through their garden.   

First, I merely breathed in the miscellaneous fragrances of this herb garden: mint, rosemary, fennel, santolina, sage . . . .I’m not a botanist, but some of the flourishing flowers, I think, were just the wholesome wildflowers of summer. I mean, they were more than pretty. But their perfume was too wonderful for words. There was a breeze and the afternoon light was strong, but I rested on a park bench, in the shade, and relaxed as I inhaled the medicine of the Garden for the Blind.